


Bookends: Favors

by Missy



Series: Bookends [1]
Category: Laverne & Shirley (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Future, Dancing, Family, Future Fic, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:27:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22780966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: Carmine is finally booked on Dancing with the Stars, but when he asks Lenny not to embarrass him on national TV, conflict arises among the friends.
Relationships: Laverne De Fazio/Lenny Kosnowski, Shirley Feeney/Carmine Ragusa
Series: Bookends [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1637773
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shotzette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shotzette/gifts).



> Shotzette and I are (or should be!) slowly importing these over to AO3 bit by bit - but to get the series and read it from the beginning, start right here: http://knapp-street.org/KathMissy/1946.html as this fic will make zero sense if you don't.

Carmine’s smile was wide and an inch away from desperate as he raised a glass of wine and stood at the head of his dinner table. He’d gathered his friends and family for a very good –and very expensive – and very cooked-by-someone else – dinner so he could make his announcement. “You know I love all of you dearly…”

“Oh boy,” Frankie Kosnowski muttered under his breath, earning himself an elbow to the side from his mother.

“…Which is why I’ve gathered all of you here to share some great news.”

“You and Shirley are finally getting married?” Asked Lenny innocently – earning him an elbow in his side from Laverne.

Shirley’s smile grew notably strained beside Carmine, but he shook his head. “No! My agent finally got me booked on this season of Dancing with the Stars,” he said. “And you know what that means?”

“Pancake makeup at the breakfast table?” asked Marianne Ragusa, draining her wine glass.

“We’re gonna be on TV?” Frankie asked, the wheels turning behind his eyes.

“I’m going to be running a phone bank for four months?” Laverne asked.

“All of those things,” Carmine said. “Though don’t tell ABC about the last part.”

“Okay, Carmine, spit it out!” Laverne said.

“All right. As much as this hurts me to say – if the producers ask you to be on the show, please don’t embarrass me. This is a professional setting and it might get me a gig on one of those viral internet soap operas or even a Tyler Perry show, so I’ve got to look good. And some of you aren’t um…as seasoned as I am when it comes to TV production.”

“Hey, most of us are great on TV!” Laverne said. “Remember how good I was when that news reporter asked me about Kennedy?”

“I’m not worried about you. You’ve got guts, and Shirl’s naturally talented.” Shirley beamed at Carmine, which sent a thrill through him. “I’m more worried about, um…”

He turned his eyes toward Lenny, who self-consciously rubbed at the corner of his mouth. “Hey, why are you looking at me? 

“Lenny, I love you like a brother – but you kind of have an established history of freezing up on camera.”

“Oh yeah? Name one time!”

“Three words: The Dating Game.”

“Wait, you were on the Dating Game?” Frankie pulled out his ever-present phone and started searching, while Lenny tried to crawl into what was left of his strawberry cheesecake.

Face down in his plate, he said. “That wasn’t the only time! I did great during the talent show, and I didn’t choke once when I was on the Golden Circle Awards!”

“This is different! This is semi-staged reality television!” Carmine said. Laverne tugged on Lenny’s elbow, and got a napkin to wipe the sauce from his face.

“Semi-staged?” Shirley frowned. “I thought reality television is, well…real. As implied by the word ‘reality’.”

“Long story, but it’s not. But usually, competition shows aren’t totally fake. Except for The Bachelor.”

An outraged gasp came from Shirley.

Beside her, Frankie frowned as, on the tiny screen of his phone, a far-too-familiar to the adults clip played out. “Are they bleeping Uncle Squiggy, or is my connection messed up?”

“Gimmie that!” Laverne said, and grabbed it from her son’s hand.

** 

“Do you think an a-line skirt is too unsophisticated to be worn on television, Laverne?” 

Laverne frowned thoughtfully, her chin tucked against her knee as she sat on her best friend’s bed. Shirley had gone through half of her closet trying to find the right thing to wear to Carmine’s first appearance on Dancing, and she was starting to get frantic. It reminded Laverne of the millions of hours she’d spent sitting on her bed back in Milwaukee and Burbank, helping Shirley pick an outfit for a hot date. 

“I think if you’ve still got it, you should flaunt it.”

“Laverne, I’m too…experienced…to flaunt anything,” Shirley said. “Besides, I’ll embarrass the boys and Caitlin AND Carmine if I don’t look like a mature, sophisticated woman.”

“Shirl, Carmine’s gonna bounce around in a cowboy costume to Old Town Road on TV,” said Laverne. “I don’t think you’re gonna be the one who’ll be embarrassing anybody.”

“Well, that’s different. And he’s going to jive. Are you still mad that he told Lenny not to embarrass him?”

“A little. But I guess it’s payback for all the times that I asked Len not to do the same thing. But he could’ve been nicer, Shirl.”

“I know. He has been a tad stressed out lately.” Shirley frowned, holding up the latest dress she’d caged from the back of her closet. It was a cute one, tasteful – powder blue, but it didn’t wash out Shirley’s skin. “Maybe this one?”

“Yeah. But there’s no way you’ll be the ugliest person in the room no matter what you wear.”

They both glanced at the door. Even though Laverne knew Squiggy was in Kenosha at a lodge convention, she still expected him to burst in at any minute when she got insulting. “I taught Len to knock,” Laverne said, and Shirley’s shoulders relaxed.

“Bless you,” Shirley said. Downstairs, something clattered, and they both winced. 

“Sorry Shirl!” Lenny yelled up to them both.

“Part of me still doesn’t believe you married that man,” Shirley admitted. “Though the more time I spend with him, the more I understand it. Almost.”

Laverne grinned. “So you don’t want to know what he does with Bosco?”

Shirley flopped down besides Laverne with a disgusted huff. “I didn’t want to know when you married him years ago, and I don’t want to know now.” But Laverne smile stayed wise, and a little wicked. “Whatever it is, for your sake, I hope it’s fantastic!” Shirley said.

They fell, laughing against the mattress. Neither of them had changed fundamentally from the girls they’d been when they moved in together at the Knapp Street building, but they were better. Stronger. And their friendship was a growing thing because of it.

*** 

Lenny shoved two full pans of pizza under the heating lamp and buzzed the dining room as a roar went up from the number of locals who had taken to crowding L&L’s Pizza every Monday and Tuesday as Carmine danced his heart out. Lenny couldn’t complain; they were pretty good tippers, they bought while they were watching, and they were helping to pay off the big screen TVs he’d installed in the dining room and bar so people (and to be honest, he) could watch sports.

“Order up!” He peered through the service window and scanned the crowd of revelers for his kid. “Frankie!” he hollered.

“Hello!” said kid chirped, coming back with two empty pizza trays. 

“Hello yourself,” Lenny frowned. “How’s Carmine doing?” Even with his edict, Lenny couldn’t help but hope that Carmine was dancing decently.

“He just got a bunch of nines,” Frankie said. “Which is pretty good for a third week try, at least that’s what Liz says.”

“Hey, as long as Liz says so,” Lenny said. He couldn’t help but be a little peeved at his kid’s quasi-agent and…whatever the heck she was to him otherwise, as he didn’t want to consider the implications. Ever since she’d “runned away” to his and Laverne’s place (or, as Squiggy said when he’d called him begging to take the girl back: she was “Supermaning her new talent”), Lenny had kept an anxious eye on Liz and Frankie’s progress. On the surface, Lenny couldn’t fight her presence too much – she did some share of the chores without complaining, and paid her way thanks to whatever money she managed to squirrel away from her Chicago talent – and didn’t fight his and Laverne’s existence as a proverbial Berlin Wall erected between herself and Frankie, keeping her in what had been Andy’s bedroom. But he could see too many echoes of himself in his youngest kid, enough echoes to make him concerned about Liz’ presence.

Lenny avoided the argument, heaving the pizzas at his kid. “Take the pepperoni to four and the barbecued chicken to six. Beer’s coming! Not for you,” Lenny said pointedly. Frankie rolled his eyes and slung pizza with a strength that made his father smile. He loved his boys more than anything, but Frankie was going to give him a heart attack someday with his antics. 

_Paybacks are hell, kid,_ echoed Frank DeFazio’s voice in his memory. That hadn’t come to pass with Skye who – aside from dating the bassist of a band called The Skuum Monkeez and getting very drunk with Marianne a couple of times at Carmine’s place – had never really made Lenny nervous with her rebellious nature and had picked well in Brandon. Instead, it was the old man’s namesake who had turned out to be the wild child.

“Are you sure it’s against the law to pour pitchers of soda over the heads of small children?”

Lenny bit back a smile. Liz – free of makeup and sporting an L&L’s teeshirt and jeans, her shirt stained with spaghetti – looked ready to murder. “There’s some clean towels out to the left,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said flatly. Liz had become something of a Cinderella in the family. Stranded in California and living off of with only a few clients to her name due to her total stubbornness - He listened to her rummage around while he filled orders, shoveling pizzas in and out of the oven. When she reemerged she was pouty and took the pitchers of beer and soda he’d given her with a frown.

“Leonard,” she said, her smile broad, and Lenny shuddered as he always did when she used his first name. “I don’t suppose that I could have an advance on my paycheck? Pogo and the Yogurt Moon undersold the China Club, and I don’t have enough money to go to Carmine’s fourth episode and encourage him to reenter the warm embrace of Squiggman Worldwide Agency Music Producers.”

“SWAMP?” Lenny said. “I don’t know, Carmine’s got a big muckity muck agent, and I don’t know if goth metal’d sound good with what he does.”

“Goth Metal Hip-Hop Fusion,” she corrected him. “Well, one never does know unless one tries,” said Liz. “Come on, Lenny. Be a sport! The Squigman family has pride! And ambition.” Lenny wavered slightly, but stood his ground. “The Squiggman family…probably needs six bucks for cab fare?”

Lenny rolled his eyes. “I’m gonna quote a great woman at you right now – get out.”

“Aww, come on!” she complained. “The sooner I get him to use FiirBallz for his Las Vegas gig, the sooner Frankie and I can get out of your house and into a swanky single room pad of our own, complete with monitor lizards!”

“Get out!” he said. Sadly, yelling to him did not come naturally, honorary DeFazio that he was or not.

Fortunately, his wife arrived moments later. “You heard him,” Laverne said. “Go hustle that beer, you’ll get six bucks that way.”

Liz sighed and hefted the booze out to room, muttering that her beloved’s family had no imagination. Lenny pretended not to hear her, as he often did.

“Thank you,” he said, as Laverne joined him behind the counter.

“Any time,” she said. “It’s a madhouse out there!”

“So like a Friday, but on Tuesday?” he teased. 

She snorted and got to work filling orders. He checked the clock – two hours before closing, and then they had to make a bank run. Then, total freedom.

And – running between counters and even hard at work – he couldn’t resist teasing his wife to celebrate that freedom. He snapped her bra, which got him the same result he’d gotten when he was twenty – Laverne whirling around, semi-outraged, and pouting at him. “Lenny!” she yelled.

“Sorry, a devilish urge came over me,” he said. 

She snorted, and got to work dishing out the pasta.

*** 

They rolled into bed sometime around one that night – late for a Tuesday. Laverne was half asleep when her cell phone rang.

Lenny snapped to wakefulness – they both knew that nothing good that could possibly happen after one in the morning.”

“Hello - Hey Shirl – why are you calling from the studio?” 

“Hi Vernie! Were you watching the show?” 

“Yeah! Tell Carmine we say congrats.” Lenny groaned and flopped over onto his stomach. “Lenny says hi,” she continued, as he snored.

“Well,” Shirley laughed nervously. “Carmine asked if he’d have me ask you a favor.”

Well, that had to be big. Carmine usually had the wherewithal to fire his own proverbial guns. “what kind of favor?” she asked.

Shirley’s words came out in a quick rush. “They want to come film a segment with him at L&L’s Pizza this weekend, and they want you and Lenny on camera. Please say yes?”


	2. Chapter 2

“No!”

“Len!” Laverne protested. They had been sitting crammed ankle to knee on Andy and Caitlin’s couch, getting ready to have Sunday dinner with them, when Laverne had broached the subject with Lenny and he’d thrown up a wall.

“I got my rights, Vernie.”

“And so do I! Don’t you wanna be on TV? Even a little?”

“Maybe. But Carmine said ‘don’t get involved Lenny! Don’t embarrass me!’ You don’t think it’s gonna be a little mad when I trip and smash a pizza into Elena Whosiwhatsit’s face?”

“Elena Walcovitz, and he’ll be grateful because he asked us to do it. And you ain’t that clumsy.” 

Lenny pouted and stuck an elbow into Caitlin’s sofa. “Oh yeah? You danced with me lately?”

“I’ve been dancing with you since we were six and…you’re not that bad.”

Lenny’s pout deepened, bringing out the winkles in his forehead. Laverne cozied up to him, resting her head against his shoulder. She kissed his cheek and neck. “’C’mon, Len. Please? Pretty please?”

He wavered, as he always did when she touched him like this. “I dunno. I mean, what if I do something and he ends up getting voted out?”

“I dunno. Odds say Uncle Carmine’s probably going to be in the top three,” Andy said. He kept fiddling with his phone, and studiously ignoring his parents’ PDA. 

“Huh,” Lenny said. Laverne watched the wheels behind her husband’s eyes turn slowly – very slowly. “You ain’t gonna stop until I say yes, are you?” 

“Maybe.”

Lenny sighed. “Yeah well, if I do anything bad don’t blame me.”

“Len, you’ll be fine. Only a total jerk would think you meant to do something wrong.”

“Hello!” Liz slammed the door open and glanced around the living room. She looked more herself – a tiny, intimidating little thing in cashmere. “Sorry I’m late, I just finished a meeting downtown and it was simply disastrous. Where’s dinner?”

“Coming!” Caitlin called. Andy waved with his left hand from the freezer, trying to pull something from its depths. Laverne and Lenny had offered their help a million times but the young couple was flying solo in more ways than one. She felt enormous sympathy for Caitlin, remembering those first frantic dinners she’s shared with Lenny and her Pop and Skye all those years ago. But she had to learn how to take care of herself – and so did Andy. So far, they seemed to be doing well, and their native sweet quietness complimented each other appealingly.

Liz sighed and dropped down next to Frankie, pulling out her phone. Laverne wanted to get a little crowbar separation between the two of them, but Liz stayed as innocent as she’d ever be while fiddling with her own phone. 

Caitlin’s big, blue Shirley Feeney eyes were utterly manic as she headed into the room. “We’re all ready!” she chirped. 

“Yay, grub!” Frankie said. Liz snorted, following him in to the kitchen-slash-dining room.

Laverne watched the twins and their girlfriends silently, and noted that Lenny was watching them with concern. “They’re grown-ups,” she reminded Lenny.

“They ain’t even twenty-one yet,” he pointed out.

“Relax, okay! Everything is gonna be fine here. We’ll teach Frankie how not to sell away half his soul by not reading the fine print on a contract, I’ll help you cook some pizza and I’ll be right there – we’ll get through this, like we’ve done everything else.”

“I know.” He squeezed her arm. “And I guess that’s a good idea. Come to think, I probably kinda still sorta owe Squiggy half of my first born child.”

“Skye’d love to hear that,” she snorted, and arm in arm, they joined the kids for dinner.

*** 

The following day, Laverne straightened her husband’s apron. “You’re gonna be fine,” she reminded him. The cameramen had come early, stringing the restaurant with lights and boom mikes. It had been less complicated to film a commercial for the restaurant with some of Andy’s journalist friends – that had taken less than an hour and involved only two cameras.

“I hope so,” Lenny squeaked. She pecked his cheek and then carefully straightened the bright blue tie he wore. He’d insisted on wearing his old lucky yellow shirt, the one he’d proposed to her in years ago when she thought she’d gotten pregnant at a brewery party – the one he still wore to most special occasions, even funerals. He’d slicked his hair back and, to Laverne, looked especially handsome. He picked up the vegetable-laden pizza he was supposed to serve to Carmine and Elena.

“Think I should one-hand it?” he asked.

She winced. “I wouldn’t.”

A cough from the entry to the kitchen startled them. “All right, Mr. Kosnowski,” said Simon – the very short, very bored-looking director, his afro capped with a blue Dodgers cap – told them on approach. “All you have to do is take the pizza to the counter and serve it to Elena and Carmine. Then we’ll get some coverage footage of you and Laverne watching Carmine and Elena dancing together. Everything else will be handled with the little confession booth interview we’ll conduct right after we’re done. Got it?”

“Yep!” Lenny said, shaking his head.

Simon shot Laverne a confused look. “He does that when he’s nervous.” She handed Lenny the pie. “Go get ‘em, okay?” She kissed his cheek and pushed her husband forward. 

Two seconds later, Simon called for “action.” Lenny managed to do what he was told as Carmine and Elena exclaimed heavily written dialogue over the pizza they’d been sent. They took showy bites for the camera.

“Cut!” Simon yelled.

“Sith Ucket!” Said Elena with a full mouth.

“Huh?” Lenny said, being the person nearest to her.

“Uh, Len,” said Carmine, “she’s asking for a spit bucket.”

“Why would I have one of those?” Lenny retorted. 

“You wouldn’t,” Carmine sighed.

“Look, lady, just swallow the stuff,” Lenny said. “It’s great pizza! My wife’s pop’s recipe. It goes back to my kid’s great-grandparents in Sicily…The Big Ragoo special, with extra sauce on it!” 

Elena spat her mouthful into a paper napkin and glared at Lenny. “Mister, I’m doing you morons a favor at Carmine’s request. Now because of you I’m going to be over my carb intake!”

“Hey!” Frankie said, getting between Lenny and Elena, “don’t you come into my folks’ place and call my dad a moron!”

“Damn right,” Carmine said, and Lenny raised an eyebrow at his approval.

“Would you rather I call him a lousy cook instead?”

Laverne didn’t have time to react before Frankie grabbed the rest of the pizza and smashed it into Elena’s face. While she sat there, wide eyed in shock, he snapped out, “don’t worry! It’s vegan!” in the most mocking tone possible before stalking out of the restaurant with Lenny and Laverne in hot pursuit.


	3. Chapter 3

“Frankie!” Lenny hollered. He was running as fast as he could after his kid – which, thanks to thirty years of sampling his own wares and steady aging, wasn’t as quick as when he rode the bench for Filmore’s track team in high school. 

Fortunately for Lenny, Frankie had to stop – he’d run into a blind alley. When confronted with a brick wall, Frankie spun around and tried to straighten his shoulders – to project “cool.” Lenny leaned an elbow into the brick edifice and sucked wind while he tried to think of 

“What the heck was that?” he asked. “I chewed my nails down to the roots worrying I’d embarrass Carmine and you smash a whole pizza into Helena - ”

“Elena!”

“Her face!”

Frankie cringed. “I wasn’t gonna sit there and let her say mean things about you. If we’ve got anything in this family, we got pride.”

Lenny melted a little at that confession. “I’m not worried about me, I’m worried about whatever the heck Liz is trying to do for you. You keep saying you wanna chance to sing, and you want to be famous. Even though I don’t like Liz that much –“ Frankie gasped at that little confession and Lenny winced. “ – Yet, she’s got her pop’s knowhow for making deals. If you wanna get somewhere, you can’t be acting like that in front of people who can help you.” Lenny recalled giving a similar speech to Squiggy a million years ago, and it was something the little guy had never quite absorbed.

Frankie crossed his arms proudly over his chest. “Then I don’t want to work with them! I’ll spend my whole life working clubs. Liz’ll understand!”

“Fabrizio Rodan Kosnowksi!” Lenny scolded. 

Frankie winced. “Ouch. The full name.”

“I didn’t go through all that poking and prodding nineteen years ago for you not to live up to your full potato!”

Frankie squinted at his father’s statement before his meaning blazed to life. “I’m not..not living up to my full potential,” he said.

“You are if you’re holding back,” Lenny said. “And I want you to be happy.”

“You sure this isn’t because you and Uncle Squig didn’t 

Lenny shook his head. “If me and Squig were big, famous rock stars, I wouldn’t have this place. I wouldn’t have been there and met your mom at Lou’s. You probably wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be the happiest guy in Burbank. And, though I don’t wanna get all mushy on you, I think you being here is way more important than me getting famous.”

Frankie shrugged. “I don’t know. Sometimes it’s like there’s something wrong with me, like I just wasn’t meant for these times.”

“Yeah. The DeFazio temper packed into the Kosnowski pride.” He shook his head. He loved all of his kids equally, but Frankie had a magical talent for encapsulating all of his and Laverne’s best and worst qualities into one little package. “You’ll live.”

Frankie thunked his gelled head down on his father’s shoulder, and Lenny didn’t even think to mind as his blue hair dye leaked into his white teeshirt. “Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve got one question.”

“What?”

“Why’s Andy the only one you gave a normal middle name to? You named Skye after Mothra and me after Rodan, and he ended up with Jeffrey.” 

Lenny winced. “Ask your mother,” he said. And he really needed to get them to pay attention to his stories more often. Or go and get Jeffrey out of the attic, where he’d been hiding since Skye had tucked him there when she’d gone off to college.

“I ain’t explaining that one,” Laverne said. Lenny had no idea how long she’d been watching them, but her expression was tender as she approached.

“Uh…” Frankie said, “Mom?”

“You’re not in trouble,” she said, without breaking eye contact with Lenny. 

“Really?”

“You’re a grown-up and you can make your own choices. And we’re raising your salary a little,” Laverne said. “On account of…De Fazio-Kosnowski family pride,” she said, and the corner of her mouth turned up. “You should tell Uncle Carmine you’re sorry, though. Maybe you can talk about opening for him – just don’t sign anything before one of us sees it, even if Liz says it’s okay.”

“Got it. Uh, are you guys gonna…?” His parents were kissing before he could finish the sentence. “I’m gonna go check on Uncle Carmine,” he said, and shuffled his way past them and into the restaurant.

When the kiss broke, Lenny said, “Vernie, do you still love me even though my hair…”

“Yeah.”

“And my belly’s…”

“Yeah!”

“And I’m getting wrinkles all…”

“Len,” she said calmly, “Have you looked at me lately?”

“Yeah,” he said solemnly. “You’re beautiful.”

She cupped his jaw and he automatically leaned into her touch. “Why are you so sweet?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. Guess it’s always been second-nature.”

“You know how much I love you,” she said.

“Yeah. But it’s nice to hear, sometimes, especially when you’re twice as clumsy as Mr. Movie Star in there.”

She patted his face. “Come on. Carmine said something about pulling some strings and getting rid of Elena. I wanna be there when the yelling starts.” She habitually grabbed for his hand to drag him along with her.

He allowed himself to be dragged, and squeezed her hand as they headed back into the restaurant. 

***

That Monday, with Frankie in charge of the restaurant, Laverne and Lenny attended Dancing with the Stars as Carmine and Shirley’s guests. They arrived late enough to worry Shirley, Laverne apologizing the whole way.

“We had to talk Squiggy out of flying up and buying tickets,” Laverne said. “He wanted to run by the camera with a banner that has the URL for the new Squiggvile arcade website. He almost talked Liz into doing it before we put our feet down.”

“Is he crazy? Security would’ve caught him in a minute,” said Shirley.

“Yeah. And he was gonna streak it,” Lenny added.

“Oh my God,” Shirley muttered, 

Laverne was wearing a casual suit, and Lenny was wearing a tuxedo – the same one he’d bought for Skye’s wedding over eight years before. Shirley took one look at her best friend’s shoes and whispered. “How did you figure out how to get L’s and sequins on your hightops?”

“Len did it.”

“Matches my tie,” he said, pointing to his sequin-encrusted tie, which did indeed sport an L.

“That is…both cute and nauseating,” observed Shirley. “Don’t worry, it’s on commercial break. You didn’t miss Carmine.”

In fact they had to wait through two more dances – one with a guy from an old sitcom, another with a basketball player who had barely functioning knees – before Tom Bergeron introduced “Actor and singer Carmine Ragusa.”

On the giant screen, Carmine and Elena were babbling about how it was oldies’ week. Carmine and Elena were going to jitterbug to “Rock Around the Clock”, and he started explaining that it was a dance he’d been doing since he was a teenager in Milwaukee. 

“A lot of things have changed since I was a kid back there, but one thing hasn’t – the friendships I made there,” Carmine said.

The shot cut to the exterior of L&L’s Pizza, and to Lenny bringing Elena and Carmine pizza – which miraculously cut off before the spit bucket incident. 

“I’ve known Carmine all my life,” Lenny said in a voiceover. “The first time I saw him, we were four and he was putting his jacket down in a mud puddle so Shirley wouldn’t have to step in it. It’s always been him and Shirl, ever since I could remember. I mean, he followed her all the way across the country just to be with her. That’s dedication.”

“He followed Shirley all the way across the country?” Simon asked from offscreen.

“Yeah. And then she married a mummy.”

Shirley shot Lenny a look but he just widened his eyes at her. He couldn’t help it if that was the truth, and he wasn’t exactly in the mood to be charitable toward Walter when he was dragging his heels on his divorce from Shirley and had made things difficult for Andy and Caitlin. 

“Carmine’s always been a great guy, and a swell friend. He taught me how to dance, y’know,” Laverne said.

“Isn’t it true that you used to date?” Simon asked.

“…A little. I only dated him a little,” Laverne looked right into the camera. “Cut that out, please.”

“Girls,” Lenny said, pressing his hand into Laverne’s knee, “don’t try to kill each other, I don’t think my back can take pulling you apart.”

But then there was Carmine saying, “Me and Shirley have been going together since we were teenagers – with a thirty year break right in the middle so we could raise families with other people.” The audience chuckled, just as it did during Carmine’s Vegas gigs when he told the same joke. “There’s something really special about her. And I wouldn’t have gotten back together with her without Lenny and Laverne’s help. Sometimes I forget how important the folks in my life are, and whenever I lose sight of that they’re there to kick me in the patootie.” Lenny took that as an apology, and Laverne squeezed his hand supportively. “Shirley, my friends, my little girl…they all mean something important to me. So I’m dedicating this next dance to them.” 

Somehow, Carmine managed to get through a jitterbug without breaking his ankles.

Somehow, he managed to swing his pelvis like Elvis’.

Somehow, two customers survived Frankie’s attempt at feeding them Bosco, Turkish taffy and lard pizzas. But that’s another story entirely.


End file.
